


A Bittersweet Anniversary

by tptplayer5701



Series: "Mind Games"-verse [24]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25865851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tptplayer5701/pseuds/tptplayer5701
Summary: A “Mind Games”-verse Anthology:One year ago, Marinette ripped the miraculous from Hawk Moth’s chest, ending his two-year reign of terror after a bitter fight. One year ago, Adrien’s life changed forever. As the rest of Paris celebrates the anniversary of Hawk Moth’s defeat, some of the Heroes of Paris are still coming to terms with the battle’s effects.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Ivan Bruel/Mylène Haprèle, Luka Couffaine/Kagami Tsurugi, Max Kanté/Sabrina Raincomprix
Series: "Mind Games"-verse [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666807
Comments: 15
Kudos: 34





	1. Adrien and Marinette

**Author's Note:**

> Although this isn’t being published until over a month later, I actually wrote this series of one-shots in the week leading up to what would have been my wedding anniversary. Sadly, this is the second one since my wife’s death. Hence the title and tone.
> 
> This chapter is largely standalone. If you are new to the “Mind Games”-verse, all you need to know is that the Heroes defeated Hawk Moth 1 year ago, all the Heroes of Paris know Adrien’s and Marinette’s identities (as do her parents), and they’ve done a lot of recruiting. There’s a lot more connection in the other 4 chapters, but this one is pretty much standalone. Each chapter is a one-shot focusing on one of the five couples that I’ve written in this series.

_The room was pitch-black. His heightened senses picked up the sound of hundreds – thousands – of butterflies’ wings fluttering. A golden chamber stood in front of him within the recessed grotto, the lights glowing brilliantly and almost blinding him. He stepped forward to look at the form inside the chamber: her skin was pallid, her chest barely moving as the life support system forced oxygen into her lungs. Her jet-black hair was fanned out around her head and no longer in its accustomed pigtails. Her bluebell eyes were closed. And in his hands, next to his ring, he held a pair of earrings._

_“What would_ you _do for the woman you love?” his father’s voice whispered in his ear._

Adrien’s eyes flew open and he would have shot bolt upright in bed if not for the gentle pressure on his chest and around his waist. His shirt was damp with sweat. Sunlight streamed through the skylight directly over his head. Two Kwamis were curled up together on a shelf next to the bed. The scent of vanilla invaded his nose from the jet-black pigtails resting on his chest. The sound of Marinette’s soft, steady breathing brought him back to the present.

With a sigh, Adrien fell back against the pillow and tried to forget the dream. He’d found himself having these dreams more and more often as the anniversary drew closer. On the anniversary of the day his father had attacked them at dinner – both the best day of his life because he had learned his Lady’s identity and the worst day of his life because he had found out his father was Hawk Moth (and his father had nearly killed him!) – he had woken up in the middle of the night screaming. In fact, he had screamed so loudly that it had woken the entire Mansion. Every single hero staying at the Mansion had come running within a minute, fully expecting him to be under attack.

He hadn’t actually slept in his old bedroom at the Mansion since then.

He’d tried to sleep in his own bed in the Dupain-Chengs’ apartment for a couple nights, but then the nightmares had started once more. Not every night, but often enough. The first time, Marinette had come down to keep him company for the rest of the night. The second time, Sabine had held him for an hour and rubbed his back soothingly while he cried into her nightgown. The night after that, after dinner Marinette had grabbed his hand, dragged him up the stairs to her own room, ignored any protests, and pushed him up the ladder to her own bed. The nightmares hadn’t gone away, but waking up with her head on his shoulder, with her arms around his chest, had helped to ground him and let him go back to sleep when they happened.

Adrien wrapped his arms tighter around Marinette and planted a kiss on her forehead, caressing her bare arm where her pajama top ended. She hummed in her sleep and squeezed him back.

He looked down at his watch to check the time: “10:00 already?” he groaned.

Marinette stirred and dragged herself up until her face was next to his. She rested a hand on his cheek and asked, “What’s wrong? Another dream?”

He nodded numbly. “That and we’re late,” he added, frowning in concern.

“No, we’re not,” she told him with a small smile, fixing those bluebell eyes on him. “We are right where we’re supposed to be.”

“The parade started half an hour ago,” he pointed out, nodding in the general direction of downtown. “Ladybug and Cat Noir are supposed to be there. Why didn’t you wake us up?” he asked, glaring at Plagg, who had sat up and was watching them with some amusement.

“Do you honestly think I want to be on Pigtails’ bad side, kid?” Plagg asked seriously. “I like you, kid, but…” he shuddered melodramatically. “Besides, I don’t want to lose my access to all her old man’s cheese-inspired creations!”

“Ladybug and Cat Noir _are_ there,” Marinette replied, giggling. She grabbed his face and kissed him deeply before adding, “No one said that meant _you_ had to be there.”

“They’re expecting us to put in an appearance,” Adrien grumbled. He looked down at his ring and furrowed his brow. “You said – Alya.”

“No one expects Adrien Agreste to participate in the festivities for his father’s defeat,” she insisted, running her fingers through his hair. “Your charity is providing complimentary water and selling merchandise and all the things you are expected to do. The Heroes of Paris are doing everything we asked them to do. All _you_ have to do today is what you _want_ to do.”

“And if Lynchpin tries something during the celebration?”

Marinette actually laughed at that. “I almost hope he _does_ try something,” she replied, smirking. “Our team is covering the city from top to bottom undercover, Sabrina’s dad convinced the entire police prefecture to blanket the city with plainclothes officers, and a few heroes from the American team are even waiting at Headquarters with Max just in case. And if anything happens _here_ , I gave Mama and Papa miraculous for the day. If Lynchpin tries anything, his team will be buried in heroes before they can blink!” She held his face between her hands, looked into his eyes and said, “All you need to do today is take care of yourself.”

“You did all of that?” he asked, surprised. “For me?”

Marinette bit her lower lip and nodded, blushing. “We could all see how difficult this was getting to be, so I didn’t want you to have to worry about anything today. We can do absolutely anything you want.”

Adrien nodded and smiled weakly before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “Thank you, Milady,” he whispered into her hair. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him again in response.

After another half-hour of snuggling, Adrien was finally ready to get out of bed and went downstairs to his room to shower. By the time he was ready, wearing the Ladybug t-shirt that Marinette had designed for him for Valentine’s Day – red with black hearts instead of spots – he could smell something coming from the apartment kitchen. He followed his nose out to the dining area to find Marinette wearing a shirt she had designed for herself – black with “Purrincess” in green across the front – and in the process of pulling a tray of puff pastries out of the oven. His mouth watered when she handed him one. He bit into it eagerly to taste the scrambled eggs, cheese, and bacon bits stuffed inside.

“This is amazing, Princess!” he told her, grabbing a second pastry off the tray. “What did I do to deserve you?”

She smiled and rested her head against his chest. “You mean other than save my life more times than I can count in the last three years? Other than constantly be there when I needed you? Other than help me find my way when I didn’t know what to do?” she asked. She put a finger on her chin and thought for a minute before smiling at him impishly. “Maybe it’s just because you’re cute.”

He grinned and wrapped his other arm around her. “It’s just… after everything that happened, I thought that you would hate me. My father was Hawk Moth. I fought you. I–I could have used your miraculous and you would have been in a coma instead of Mother…”

Marinette set the tray of pastries down on the table, turned around, and put a finger over his lips to silence him before moving her hand down to rest over his heart. “None of that changes who you are _or_ how I feel about you,” she told him, moving her hand around to his back and placing her other hand on the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair. “You are my Kitty, and the one person I love and trust more than anyone else in the world. And that is never going to change.”

“You are too good for me,” Adrien whispered.

“And you had better not forget that!” she told him, pulling him down into a kiss.

* * *

“Can we make pain au chocolat this afternoon?” Adrien asked while helping Marinette clean the kitchen after their late breakfast.

“Of course!” she assured him, drying the big mixing bowl and setting it to one side. “Can you get the flour and sugar back out?”

Adrien collected the ingredients for her while Marinette prepared the yeast. Once everything was set up, Adrien followed her lead to mix the ingredients and form the dough together to rest. While Adrien worked the dough, Marinette put the dishes in the sink to soak and wiped the excess flour off her hands and shirt.

“The dough will have to rest a lot,” she told him. “What do you want to do while we wait?”

“Honestly?” Adrien asked. “Everything about today has been so focused on the past and… Father…” he made a face. “Let’s think about the future for a change – a _happy_ future.”

Marinette hummed and tapped her chin. “Happy things in the future…” she echoed contemplatively. Her face lit up. “I finished designing the dresses!” she exclaimed, clapping excitedly. “Do you want to see them?”

Adrien smiled. Even though the wedding planning could get to be too much at times, he was still very much looking forward to it. And to spending the rest of his life with the amazing girl in front of him. “That sounds _purr_ -fect, _Purr_ -incess!” he assured her. He picked up her engagement ring from the counter where she had laid it while they baked. “But first…” He slipped it on her finger and lifted her hand to kiss it.

Marinette giggled and raced up the stairs to get her sketchbook.

Plagg phased out of the refrigerator, a wedge of cheese in his paws, and gave Adrien an amused look. “I’m telling you, kid,” he commented, “you are way too sweet.” He gestured toward the countertop. “I think you put Tikki into a sugar coma!”

“Oh, hush, Plagg,” Tikki retorted, stirring out of her reverie and shoving the half-eaten scone she had been holding into her mouth. “I think they’re being cute!” She giggled shrilly. “Besides, it’s not like you were any better _last_ time two of our holders got married!”

Plagg folded his arms and sulked. “This is why I prefer Barkk!” he grumbled, floating into the other room.

Tikki followed him, laughing. “You and Barkk have _never_ gotten along!”

“Where are they going?” Marinette wondered as she reached the kitchen, setting her sketchbook and a bag of fabric samples on the table.

Adrien shrugged and sat down, pulling her into his lap as he did so. “Who knows why they do anything?” he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Marinette absently ran her fingers through his hair while flipping through the sketchbook. “Instead of all the bridesmaids wearing the same dress I designed two years ago, I decided to go with a little variety,” she explained, showing him the first drawing. “All the dresses will have the same style and mostly the same colors, but I… may have worked their miraculous into the design a little bit.” She smiled shyly. “The entire wedding party is going to be made up of heroes, so why not?” she asked.

Adrien laughed. “So are you going to make Nino wear a dress with a turtle shell on it?” he asked, smirking.

Marinette’s jaw dropped open and she stared at him for a moment before her eyes lit up with building excitement. “That… that would be so _cute_!”

“Nino’s going to kill me,” Adrien muttered, trying not to crack up at the mental image.

“Oh, not for Nino, silly,” Marinette told him, smacking him lightly on the arm. “For Alya. And not for the wedding; just for fun.”

“Yeah, that’s probably better,” agreed Adrien, grinning. “So what will _you_ wear?”

“I can’t show you my dress before the wedding!” she squealed, flushing and hugging her sketchbook tightly.

When the pastries were finished baking, Marinette pulled them out of the oven and served them up while Adrien cued up the TV with _Rurouni Kenshin_. “These are amazing!” Adrien said after taking his first bite of pain au chocolat.

“All thanks to my amazing assistant!” Marinette replied, lying down on the couch and putting her head in his lap. She took his hand and kissed it before letting it rest on her. “So was this a good day?” she asked, looking up into his eyes questioningly.

Adrien smiled down at her and squeezed her gently. Yes, his life had changed a year ago with his father’s arrest. Yes, there were still people who would blame him for his father’s crimes. But some things had changed for the better that day. His life was his own. His friends had his back. And he had this wonderful woman. “I think it was just _purr_ -fect.”


	2. Alya and Nino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next four chapters focus on the other couples I’ve actually written in the “Mind Games”-verse and have a lot of connections back to the original defeat of Hawk Moth, with reminiscences from various characters’ perspectives. The Hawk Moth defeat was in [“Mind Games” ch. 5-11](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397484/chapters/56238676), with some references in [“Bugs Have to Stick Together” ch. 3-4](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379715/chapters/56533561) and a passing mention in [“Tit for Tat” ch. 5](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23968420/chapters/57837463).

“I’m here with a group of other press in front of City Hall, Ladybug and Cat Noir just finished their speech, and the Heroes’ Day Parade for the first anniversary of Hawk Moth’s defeat is just getting underway!” Alya announced into her wireless microphone, as Nino turned her phone’s tripod to point the phone at one end of the street where a trio of police cars waited to lead the parade. “According to the press briefing, the police car in the center is Captain Roger Raincomprix. He was a minor celebrity last year as the officer who actually arrested Gabriel Agreste after Ladybug and Cat Noir defeated him.” The police cars were followed by a marching band, a fire truck, and then a convertible with the roof open to show the two people sitting on the trunk and waving to the crowd. “Although Ladybug and Cat Noir chose not to ride in the parade, we do have _one_ of the Heroes present this year,” Alya narrated. “Chloe Bourgeois, a.k.a. ‘Queen Bee,’ one of the two heroes who defeated Mayura, is riding with her father, our illustrious Mayor,” Alya explained. She allowed herself a small smile which wouldn’t show up on the live-stream: _she_ was the other hero who had taken down Mayura!

Beside her, Nino carefully wrapped an arm around her waist while they watched more bands and floats pass their viewing area. One float held a group of former Akuma victims with a banner reading, “Thank You Heroes!” A handful of floats were dedicated to the heroes who had participated in the Hawk Moth fight – design contest winners. Alya had to stifle a laugh on seeing the Carapace float: it looked like a green paint can had exploded on a sphere of Christmas lights. Seeing the last of the Hero floats just turning the corner, she gave Nino a kiss and ducked behind the screen in their semi-private press booth. She unclipped the microphone from her shirt, covered it with her hand, and whispered her transformation phrase. When the magic had washed over her, she blew a Mirage ball which resolved into three forms. One walked out from behind the curtain to take her place next to Nino. The other two she instructed to leave the press booth, race a couple blocks away, and then swing through the air over the parade route. Then Rena Rouge clipped her microphone to her suit, pulled out the screen on her flute to watch her own live-stream, and sat down to narrate the next five minutes of the parade remotely.

“Here are the floats for Ladybug and Cat Noir,” she reported, “and as if on cue, there are the heroes themselves!” With a thought she directed Cat Noir a little to one side to avoid a flock of pigeons, commanding him to sneeze once for the sake of authenticity. The Mirage heroes raced down the street as Rena Rouge pulled up a second video screen to watch their progress using the security cameras to which the Heroes had access. “No one really knows what happened between them and Hawk Moth during that fateful duel, but the children of the École Astruc are reenacting their version of the fight on the next float. Give those kids a round of applause for their impressive costuming and acting!”

Rena Rouge glanced down at her miraculous to see that she was down to a minute of Mirage time. With a thought, Ladybug and Cat Noir swung away from the parade route, landed on an apartment building roof, and hid between two chimneys, where they disappeared in a puff of smoke. The Mirage of herself returned to the screen behind which Rena Rouge hid, and disappeared. She de-transformed, clipped her microphone back to her shirt – one that Marinette had designed for her a couple months ago with the Carapace and Rena Rouge symbols interlaced – and returned to where Nino was waiting for her. After a set of parade balloons showing all the Heroes of Paris had floated by and a final band marched past, a pair of police cars signaled the end of the parade.

“Our city certainly owes a great debt to the Heroes of Paris for freeing us from Hawk Moth,” Alya stated. “I hope everyone enjoys the Heroes’ Day festivities, and I will see you around. Say ‘hi’ to the Ladyblogger today and you might get your photo on the Ladyblog’s Heroes’ Day recap!” With that Alya ended the live-stream. Once she was certain that the video had ended, she put an arm around Nino. “Thanks, babe.”

“Not a problem, babe!” he replied, wrapping his own arm around her and kissing her cheek. Leaning in closer he whispered, “I don’t think anyone would have noticed; _I_ couldn’t even tell, and I already knew.” He grinned. “So where is the Ladyblogger going to hang out now?”

Alya put out a quick Tweet. “Let’s look at the craft fair first,” she decided, leading the way out of the press booth and down the street. Side streets had been blocked off to through traffic for several blocks to make room for the craft fair, which was full of stalls and tables selling handmade Heroes of Paris-themed items. A handful of tables with professionally-manufactured goods showed the logo designating them as officially-licensed merchandise – one was covered in the Agreste Charity’s official Heroes of Paris t-shirts and had almost been cleared out entirely. The majority of the items on display, however, were obviously handmade by individual craftsmen, and Alya paid them special attention.

“Look at these!” she called eagerly, dragging Nino over to a booth filled with patchwork quilts. One of them had an intricate design with Ladybug and Cat Noir standing back-to-back in front of the Eiffel Tower.

“I didn’t know you could do something like that with a quilt,” commented Nino, feeling the fabric. “Do you know if Marinette has?”

Alya shook her head. “She’s made quilts of course,” she replied, taking a picture and posting it on the Ladyblog, “but nothing quite this detailed. Of course, it’s not like she has the _time_ for it.”

“Think this is one they would like?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Alya smiled and nodded. She reached for her purse, but Nino managed to get his wallet out first, and the woman at the stall folded up the quilt and placed it in a bag for them. Nino took the bag with a nod of thanks, and they left as the crowd around the stall started to pick up.

“I think you might be good for business,” Nino observed, draping his arm over her shoulders.

“I hope so,” she agreed. “I would hate to see all these people’s hard work go to waste!”

After checking a few more of the tables, Nino raised an eyebrow at her, and she nodded. Handing her phone to him she slipped away and hid between a couple dumpsters in the alley between two apartment buildings to transform. A couple minutes later, she heard excited shouts from the craft fair as people caught sight of the heroes swinging above them. After five minutes, Alya reappeared on the street to find Nino waiting in line at a food cart. By the time she reached him, he had received a couple ice cream cones and handed her one, along with her phone.

“Thanks, babe! I–” She stopped and took a closer look at her phone. Instead of her cracked old original Ladybug case, it was covered with a new one, hand-painted with the “Original Five” heroes.

Nino grinned in embarrassment. “I hope it’s okay, babe,” he told her. “I figured the Ladyblogger really can’t have a cracked phone case. The old one is in the bag still if you–”

Alya silenced his rambling with a kiss, nearly smearing her ice cream down his back in the process.

While they ate their ice cream, Alya continued taking pictures of the crafts on display, everything from a shirt with an iron-on showing all the Heroes up to a guitar hand-painted with Viperion’s picture. While she was debating the merits of buying handmade Ladybug and Cat Noir dolls for the twins at a stall with handmade versions of all the heroes (including a couple of the recent Akuma-heroes), Alya overheard Nino muttering something under his breath. As they were walking away, she gave him a questioning look.

“Nothing major,” he assured her. “Nath saw a dude grab a woman’s purse. The guy ran straight toward him, and I told him to let the police handle it.” He snorted. “Nath ‘left him to the police’ by ‘accidentally’ tripping the guy right in front of an undercover police officer!”

Alya laughed. She felt a little naked without her earpiece to keep track of the other Heroes, but Nino and Chloe and agreed it was for the best. After all, she was there as the Ladyblogger, not really as a hero. She couldn’t afford a slip up while live-streaming. And considering that Nino was going to be right next to her for the whole day, she could just rely on him for any Hero information.

“Now _that_ is amazing!” she squealed, dragging Nino over to the next table, which was covered in hand-carved figurines. All of the Heroes were represented in miniature form – Alya was surprised to find a couple that were clearly Ayilon and Lupa Gris, even though they weren’t even _technically_ Heroes of Paris. However, the carving that had caught her eye was larger than any of the others. It depicted one of the few parts of the Hawk Moth battle to become public knowledge. Carapace stood in front of Rena Rouge, a determined look on his face, with his shield held out and a paper-thin, almost-transparent wooden Shell-ter in the process of forming out of it. Opposite them a trio of Akumas (Guitar Villain, Troublemaker, and Frightningale) stood poised to attack. The sequence of events leading up to this scene had been immortalized by Jagged Stone a couple months after the battle in his song “The Carapace and the Guitar Villain.”

Alya wasn’t sure who had given Jagged Stone the details of that fight well enough for him to recount it so accurately. She still remembered this moment as clearly as if it had just happened yesterday. She had been locked in battle against Le Tramp, a man who shot coins from his walking stick, when Frightningale had appeared out of nowhere and swung her whip, knocking down a stalactite directly above Rena Rouge’s head. With sentimonsters boxing her in on either side, she’d been left with no way to avoid it. Carapace had been in the middle of a heated fight against Guitar Villain and Troublemaker when she had cried out, and he had bowled Guitar Villain over, slugged a lollipop man sentimonster, jumped between Rena Rouge and Frightningale, and summoned his Shell-ter seconds before the stalactite landed on it and shattered. She had given him a quick peck on the cheek in gratitude – which the song had of course embellished into a full-on make-out session while the battle raged around them.

She picked up the carving and held it out for Nino to examine it before pulling her wallet out of her purse to purchase it. “I think this is my favorite piece we’ve seen all day,” she told him, putting her arms around his neck as the man behind the table boxed it up for her.

Nino grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer. “Mine, too,” he agreed, kissing her gently. Putting his mouth right up to her ear, he whispered, “And I promise I will always be there to protect you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least in my universe, the heroes’ voices aren’t overly different when transformed. In “Milady,” Ladybug called Alya from Marinette’s phone, and Alya just assumed it was Marinette. When the heroes use the system that Max/Pegasus programmed to communicate with each other, the reason they don’t figure it out automatically is as much because of their own assumptions (“I’m talking to Rena Rouge, so I’m hearing Rena Rouge”) as anything else. That’s why Ryoku never wants to actually be transformed around her mother: her mother wouldn’t have any visual input to the contrary and so would automatically recognize her as being Kagami.
> 
> A note on the Heroes of Paris merchandise: there is “official” merchandise in this universe, with the Heroes licensing out their image to manufacturers. Those licensing deals are where most of their funds come from.


	3. Ivan and Mylène

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The date that Adrien and Marinette “sent them on” was in [“An Interrupted Date” chapter 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23909083/chapters/57584815). Adrien said, “Let’s go for a walk in the woods with our girlfriends,” and Ivan wound up pushing an alien spaceship through a portal into the Mansion basement. Tyran-X has interrupted a couple of their dates (once in [“Life and Times,”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25091401/chapters/61141867) once in [“Ladybug’s Gambit”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245559/chapters/61356253)) but neither of those was an “assignment."

Ivan’s eyes were constantly moving as he and Mylène sat together on a bench at the Trocadéro. The garden was filled with other couples walking around or lounging while enjoying the holiday and the weather. Two young boys raced past the bench on scooters, followed at a more leisurely pace by their parents. Just about everything about the day was perfect.

He reached into the bakery bag next to him and pulled out a couple macaroons. Mylène looked up from her position sitting across his lap, and he stuck one in her mouth. She smiled and bit down on it before settling in against his chest again, one hand resting over his heart.

Sometimes just sitting together was enough.

“We’ll have to thank Marinette next time we see her,” Mylène observed with a contented sigh.

Ivan chuckled in agreement and gave her a gentle squeeze before resuming his scan of the park around them. “I’m not going to complain about being ‘assigned’ to sit in the shade at the Trocadéro with you,” he joked. “Especially after the last ‘date’ they sent us on!”

The Trocadéro was playing host to a small art exhibition for Heroes’ Day, with a handful of artists displaying paintings which depicted the Heroes of Paris. On the way in they had stopped to admire one which showed Taureau Dechaine and Multiplice stopping a runaway truck back in January – one of Mylène’s first public appearances as a Hero. It had certainly captured the look of determination in Multiplice’s eyes well, though he thought the depiction of Taureau Dechaine looked a little too much like an enraged bull. After all, his was the Miraculous of _Strength_ , not _Homicidal Fury_!

The artist who had set up his canvases closest to their bench had taken inspiration from the final Hawk Moth battle, although the reports from the de-Akumatized victims who’d watched it had been sketchy and contradictory. Consequently, instead of trying to depict any specific scenes, he had worked in his own renditions of moments that may or may not have happened during the battle: Carapace punching Anansi in the face, King Monkey using a box-of-chocolates Uproar to stop Dark Cupid, Taureau Dechaine pushing Stoneheart over into Glaciator (Ivan had gotten a chuckle out of the irony of that one). However, Ivan’s eye was invariably drawn back to the one painting that was turned toward them.

The painting showed Ladybug holding her yo-yo to one side and standing behind Cat Noir, whose staff was crossed with Hawk Moth’s cane in a classic sword fighting stance. Ivan wondered if perhaps the Hawk Moth fight could have ended that way. After all, in the end Ladybug and Cat Noir _had_ faced off against Hawk Moth on their own, without anyone else around. They had returned to the main room only after Hawk Moth was defeated, thirty minutes later, dragging a sullen Gabriel Agreste behind them. Neither Marinette nor Adrien had ever spoken a word about what had transpired between them out of sight of any other witnesses. Gabriel had accepted a plea deal and had not made a single public statement apart from his sentencing. So for all he knew, it could have ended that way.

Ivan hadn’t been there for that final showdown between Ladybug and Cat Noir and Hawk Moth, but he had been nearby when King Monkey had attempted to face Hawk Moth by himself early in the battle. King Monkey had dueled Hawk Moth, staff-to-cane, for several minutes straight before jumping away to gain enough space to summon Uproar. He had received a pincushion, wound up, and thrown it at Hawk Moth. However, as if compelled against her will, Stormy Weather had thrown herself between King Monkey and Hawk Moth, been struck in the face by the pincushion, and had then collapsed to the ground. At that moment, a rhinoceros sentimonster had charged across the battlefield straight at King Monkey. King Monkey would have been trampled if Taureau Dechaine hadn’t stepped in front of the senti-rhino, shouted for Stampede, and punched the senti-rhino in the face so hard it had burst apart on the spot, covering them both in a cascade of blue dust.

He had been looking for a spot to de-transform and let Stompp recharge when he’d noticed Glaciator and Malediktator teaming up against Queen Bee. She had been so preoccupied with Malediktator that she hadn’t noticed Glaciator right behind her, lifting his foot to step on her. Facing off against the big Akumas was supposed to be Taureau Dechaine’s responsibility, and he hadn’t hesitated. Stampede was still active, and he had raced through the horde of Akumas, crashing straight through three sentimonsters in the process. He had pushed Queen Bee out of the way just in time, only to himself get stepped on for his trouble. Stampede increased his strength and durability, but it could only do so much when he was stepped on by an ice cream monster.

About the only blessing to come out of that whole ordeal had been that Mylène had remained in her apartment, safely un-Akumatized, throughout.

Queen Bee had chewed him out the next day for warning Mylène about what was happening, but he’d had no regrets, either about telling Mylène enough of their plan so she could be prepared _or_ about revealing his identity to her before the final fight. Her being Akumatized into Horrificator would have just made the battle that much worse. Considering the stress and terror and fear everyone – heroes _and_ Akuma victims – had been feeling during the battle, Horrificator would almost certainly have become absolutely massive, far beyond his ability to calm her down. And he would have been the one to keep her occupied until Ladybug could de-Akumatize her. And having to fight Mylène on top of everything else that happened during that fight would have been… horrifying.

Keeping Mylène safely away from the fighting had been an easy choice last year.

He still wondered what had made him suggest that Marinette give the Mouse Miraculous to Mylène. They had started looking for new recruits after Hawk Moth’s defeat and she had been Ivan’s first and only suggestion. In part he had hoped it might keep her safe: after all, if he was a hero (and he certainly wanted to keep Stompp and continue as Taureau Dechaine), then that could put a target on Mylène’s back, too – in the past year they had had no less than three dates interrupted by super-villains or criminals! But with a miraculous of her own, Mylène wouldn’t be helpless. Then of course it also gave them something else to do together – even if occasionally that meant their dates involved superheroics!

The first time they had faced a criminal together, it had been a bank robbery in the 17th Arrondissement. Although she had hidden it well, Mylène had been terrified, especially when one of the robbers had managed to get the drop on her. He had held a gun to her head, but she had used Multitude before he could react. Her clones had scurried away from him and swarmed up his legs, and then three of her clones had beaten him over the head with his own handgun. All the same… it had taken every ounce of restraint Taureau Dechaine had possessed to avoid using Stampede to punch that particular bank robber so far that he would need a _passport_ to get back to Paris! Or a space suit…

He had gotten better since then about trusting Multiplice not to get hurt when they fought together – even if that protective instinct was still there. When they’d fought Tyran-X together a couple months ago, it had nearly killed him to have to watch her fight the villain while he could do nothing except hold the Eiffel Tower steady until all the civilians were out of danger. He had known he was doing what he needed to do at the time, but those five minutes of listening to her fight and seeing snatches of it out of the corner of his eye had lasted longer even than any part of the final Hawk Moth battle!

He had asked Cat Noir about that the next time they had patrolled together. Cat Noir had given him a sad smile and assured him that it didn’t get easier. All he could do was trust the woman he loved to handle herself… and trust himself to keep her safe as much as he could.

There was a story there, but Ivan wasn’t about to ask.

Reflexively, Ivan squeezed Mylène a little more tightly. No matter what their future held, he would keep her safe. And he would trust her to stay safe… or as safe as their both being superheroes would allow. He glanced down to find Mylène staring up at him, a question in her eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Just about what happened a year ago,” he answered. “And about everything that’s happened since.”

She put her hand on his cheek, smiled at him softly, and kissed him. Pulling away, she rested her head against his chest and assured him, “I wouldn’t change a moment of it.”

He smiled. “Neither would I.”


	4. Kagami and Luka

Although outwardly Kagami sat perfectly still, inwardly she was practically quivering with barely-contained energy. While she was grateful to her mother for allowing her to spend Heroes’ Day on the _Liberty_ with Luka instead of staying shut up at home (not that that would have stopped her from seeing him anyways – this is where Marinette and the others wanted her to be), being here was just another reminder of why she and Luka were on the boat instead of anywhere else in the city. What if Lynchpin tried to do something along the river during the Heroes’ Day celebration?

After all, this villain sent a nutcase to trash a Heroes of Paris Victory Garden out of pure spite; why _wouldn’t_ he want to rain on the one-year anniversary of Hawk Moth’s defeat?

Kagami’s head turned in all directions as she watched the boats around them meander up and down the river. Most of the traffic today was limited to private boats keeping out of each other’s way as they enjoyed the bright sunshine. The day hadn’t gotten really hot yet, though it was all-but-guaranteed to turn into a scorcher once noon rolled around. Based on what she could see from her elevated position, the foot traffic passing by the boat was heavier than normal and would probably stay that way. However, she saw no signs of danger among the couples holding hands and walking along the river, weaving in and out of the food carts and souvenir vendors lining the sidewalk.

Strains of an all-too-familiar song drifted up to her from the deck. Despite herself she found her attention wandering from the river traffic around them to the guitar music. Something about the song sounded a little different from the song she almost knew by heart after listening to Luka play it for so long – and only more often since they had started dating a couple weeks earlier. She frowned. She could still hear the same melody, but with a soft strain of dissonance building from beneath it. With a sigh she slid off the pilothouse roof and dropped to the boat’s deck.

“What’s wrong?” she asked Luka, sitting down on the bench across from him, putting her elbows on her knees, resting her chin on her palms, and fixing her eyes on him.

In response he simply looked up at her, raised an eyebrow, and kept playing. “I just play what I hear,” he told her with a shrug. “Perhaps I should ask _you_ that question.”

She scoffed. “Why should anything be wrong?” she asked rhetorically. “Everything’s perfectly fine.”

“And you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Kagami slumped back on the bench. “Yeah. We expected something to happen during the press conference, and it did. We expected something to happen with the Victory Garden, and it did.”

“So now you’re wondering what’s going to happen today?”

“Pretty much.”

Luka transitioned seamlessly to a new song that Kagami had never heard before. She could pick out several melodies, including her own, all moving in different directions and at different tempos. Each could be its own separate piece, but they all somehow blended together and harmonized and worked well as part of a single song.

“This is what I hear when all of the Heroes are together,” Luka told her, not taking his eyes off the guitar. “Everyone is moving at their own speed, everyone has their own part to play, but it somehow all comes together into a single cohesive whole – more than just the sum of the parts.”

Kagami let out a breath and closed her eyes. She supposed that he was right. The city didn’t rest on her shoulders. Or his shoulders. Or any one person’s shoulders, for that matter. She could trust the rest of their team to do their jobs. As Luka shifted back to playing her heart song, she slowly allowed herself to relax. As if on cue, she noticed that the dissonant strain to the song he’d been playing was gone. She smiled as she pulled her feet up on the bench, smoothed out the creases in her skirt, and stretched herself out with her hands folded behind her head as a pillow. Looking up at the pilothouse roof, she caught a glimpse of the red and teal shapes sitting on either side of where she had been. Her last thought before the music lulled her to sleep was, _Even if_ I _’m not on alert,_ they _’ll let us know if anything happens._

It was about an hour later when Kagami finally roused herself from her nap. Luka had moved from his spot on the other bench and was instead sitting next to her head, quietly playing a song she hadn’t heard before, one full of frenetic energy and anxiety and fear. She pushed herself up and smiled on noticing a box from her favorite sushi place sitting on the bench between them.

“I was wondering when you would wake up,” he observed as she separated her chopsticks and picked out her first piece of sushi.

“I figured that if something happened, you or the Kwamis would wake me up,” she replied, holding a salmon roll up to his lips.

“No explosions so far,” he reported with a smile, though Kagami could see some tension lines around his mouth as he chewed.

She frowned. “Now I know that something’s wrong,” she told him. “What is it?”

Luka shrugged and looked down at his guitar, carefully plucking the strings. “A drama group is reenacting the Hawk Moth fight – what the public knows of it, that is – in front of Notre Dame right now,” he finally explained. “I heard some of the commentary over the radio coming from the last boat to go past us.”

Kagami’s eyes widened. “That’s the song you’re playing? Your experience of the fight?” she asked. He nodded. “You haven’t said anything about it before.”

He shrugged. “There really isn’t too much to say about it. Hawk Moth was ready for us. We were ready for him. A couple hours of madness later, Marinette and Adrien had ripped the brooch from his chest and we had won.”

“I know; I was there,” she replied drily. The sashimi she’d been holding slipped out of her chopsticks centimeters from her mouth, and Longg snatched it up before it landed on her favorite Viperion shirt. She could still remember bits and pieces of that day. It had been sheer insanity. She had been on her way out of a summer fencing practice when people around her started getting struck with _ravioli_ of all things. She’d had no chance to duck before one hit her in the arm. The moment it had touched her blouse, she had felt an overwhelming urge to rip someone’s head off – and not just whoever had ruined a perfectly nice shirt! And then the waves of butterflies had come. One had melted into her fencing bag, she had heard Hawk Moth’s voice, and everything had turned to purple.

The next thing she had remembered, she had been sitting against the wall of a cave surrounded by other recently-freed Akuma victims while the nine heroes continued to battle the waves of Akuma victims still waiting to be freed. Another butterfly had flown near her, but she had somehow managed to avoid it, though the man sitting next to her – Mylène’s father, if she remembered right – had not been so lucky. It wasn’t until later, after Hawk Moth had fled with Ladybug and Cat Noir in pursuit, that Pegasus had been free to open a portal for all the Akuma victims to leave through.

“I’m sorry,” Luka said, putting his guitar aside and resting his arm on the bench behind her back. “For as terrifying as that fight was for me as a hero, at least I _chose_ to be there. Hawk Moth didn’t give you any choice in the matter.”

She shrugged even as she snuggled against his side, wrapped her arms around his middle, and felt him close his arms around her. “I may not have had a choice, but I also don’t have to remember my part of the fight.” She snorted. “Carapace claims that _he_ was the one who freed me, and all I can say is that I must have been resisting the Akuma if that’s the case, because there is no other way he could have defeated me!”

Luka laughed and rested his chin on top of her hair with a sigh.

“If you need to talk about it, you can talk to me,” she encouraged him gently.

Luka sighed, and Kagami held her breath. Finally he began, “We decided beforehand to try to surprise Hawk Moth, surround him, and overwhelm him before he could bring in a lot of reinforcements, so Queen Bee and I went through a portal with Pegasus once Ladybug’s team had located his lair. As soon as everyone was there, I activated Second Chance.” He shuddered, and Kagami squeezed him comfortingly on instinct. “Of course he already had hundreds of Akumas waiting for us. I tried to end the fight in that first five minutes, but it was just… too much. I tried I don’t know how many times, and something always went wrong. We hadn’t practiced _together_ well enough for me to direct everyone – but even _that_ wasn’t really the problem. There were too many Akumas, too many Heroes, too many sentimonsters… there were just too many variables and I couldn’t control them all. I managed to keep Carapace from being knocked out by Princess Fragrance in the first minute, but that was it. There was no way for me to direct everything, so I just focused on my immediate surroundings and what I could control. I recharged a couple times but had to save Second Chance for when it would _really_ matter. Then they took out Catalysto, and it was just me facing off against Volpina.”

“I remember watching that fight,” said Kagami, allowing some of the awe she had felt at the time to show in her voice. “You were incredible: calm, confident, and in control. I remember how effortlessly you weaved through every illusion she could throw at you until finally you were close enough to grab her by the throat and rip off her pendant. Less than five minutes and she was done.”

“Yeah…” Luka replied slowly, running a hand through his hair. “That five minutes was the result of nearly an hour of effort. It took about twelve attempts to finally work through every layer of her illusions. And one time she almost got her hand on my miraculous.”

“It’s a pity you didn’t have me and Bengalia there with you for the fight,” Kagami observed, grinning. “And Miss Pinky. With you directing us, the three of us would have cleared that battlefield out in no time!”

“You’re probably right,” agreed Luka. His arms around her tensed slightly. “All the same, I’m glad you weren’t there as heroes, even if you _were_ all Akumatized. I don’t know if I could have handled worrying about all of you in that way during that fight.”

Kagami pushed herself up and turned to face him, a serious look in her eyes. She rested one hand on his chest and placed the other behind his head. “You don’t have to worry about me,” she told him. “I am happy with my place in this partnership, with you. I trust you completely.” With that she leaned forward and kissed him, slipping her hand around to his back. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his lap. When they broke apart she rested her face on his shoulder, sighed contentedly, and added, “And that is the case both for Viperion _and_ for Luka.”


	5. Max and Sabrina

Pegasus frowned and stopped the cycle of security footage on the traffic camera pointing directly at the Eiffel Tower. With a wave he zoomed the feed in to examine the face that had caught his attention. “Markov, does this face register in any of our databases?” he asked, reversing the feed to watch the man walk backward across the street to a parked car. As Markov worked, Pegasus shifted through cameras, following the car to its point of origin, an apartment building in the 15th Arrondissement.

“Affirmative, Pegasus,” chirped Markov. “He appears to have been arrested on two occasions in the last four months, both times in connection with suspected Lynchpin incidents. Each time he was released shortly thereafter due to lack of sufficient evidence.”

Pegasus nodded. He had begun to develop a mental database of suspected Lynchpin operatives over the last several months. A pity there were so many. “Turing, send his position to the closest police officer to monitor him,” he instructed. It could be nothing, but with the number of civilians out enjoying the celebrations, they could not afford any lapses in their surveillance. Turing beeped with the officer’s acknowledgement, and Pegasus checked the monitor to see a plainclothes officer (identifiable by the Geber armband he wore) appear in the frame ten meters from the suspect. Satisfied, he resumed cycling through the cameras.

Cycling… if he adjusted the number of cycles, perhaps that would prevent the generator from overheating. He gave the monitor another look, satisfied himself that nothing stood out, and turned to the project on his lab table. While waiting for the speeches to begin that morning, he had removed the paneling from the rings to expose the tubes and wires underneath. Picking up a pair of pliers, he twisted a couple of the wires on one of the rings and tightened the screw holding them down. Satisfied, he replaced the paneling, set the rings upright, and flipped a switch. The rings hummed to life, only to emit sparks and short out within seconds. He muttered a curse.

“I have run the calculations, and I do not think the copper wiring can withstand the power level necessary to operate the portal!” Markov stated.

“I do not believe the wiring is the problem,” Pegasus argued, frowning. “I suspect that it is a flaw in the application of the quantum entanglement. No matter how many times Kaalki tries to explain the concept in scientific terms, there always seems to be something missing.”

“You’ll figure it out!” a high-pitched voice squealed, phasing through the lab door. “It’s so exciting to be working with such brilliant people again! You’re just amazing!” Duusu frowned and his feathers drooped. “But what if you don’t figure it out? That would be _so_ sad!”

“I am certain we will make a breakthrough eventually, Duusu,” Pegasus assured him. “Now do you have a message from Impératrice Pourpre?”

Duusu nodded and clapped his hands excitedly. “She says to check on the spike of negative emotions she senses near the Arc de Triomphe,” he reported dutifully.

Pegasus glanced at the monitor Markov was displaying to see the incident in question. He nodded, noticing that two uniformed police officers were already approaching the crowd along with someone in a brown cape. “It appears to be a family disagreement,” he told the Kwami. “The Owl is already in the area.”

Duusu turned to the monitor with rapt attention as the Owl shook a couple of people’s hands and posed for a photograph. “You are so on top of things!” he observed, drifting toward the door. “I’ll go tell her it’s already taken care of!”

“I calculate at least 75% odds that she already knows!” replied Pegasus, grinning.

Duusu phased through the door, but before he was all the way through he called back, “She also said to remind you to eat something!”

Pegasus checked the time on Markov’s display: an hour after lunchtime. “Tell her that she needs to take her own advice!” he retorted before the Kwami had disappeared entirely.

Pegasus unplugged the rings and removed their paneling. A couple of the wires were smoking, so he pulled them out and dropped them in a metal box sitting beside the table. “Maybe it is not a hardware problem… perhaps the software requires adjustment,” he muttered. “Double-check my coding, please, Markov.”

“Of course,” the robot promised. “However, there is a suspicious activity in the 10th Arrondissement to check.”

“Always something,” Pegasus muttered as he flipped quickly between the feeds. A pair of boys who looked about old enough to be starting collège in the fall were racing down the street on their bicycles, weaving in and out of the pedestrian traffic. One nearly struck a man with a cane, who lost his balance. As he watched, Sk8r Girl caught the man before he could fall and then chased the boys down. “I think Alix can handle them,” Pegasus noted, switching through the cameras one last time. “Has Sabrina eaten anything yet?” he wondered.

“There is less than 15% chance of that,” Turing observed from his position near the primary monitors.

“I concur,” Pegasus agreed, smiling. “Continue to track the security feeds and inform me of any known Lynchpin operatives you recognize,” he instructed Turing, pushing the lab door open and leaving with Markov hovering next to his head.

The sound of laughter and conversation in English drifted across the butterfly garden from the small lounge area they had put together between his lab and the conference room. Pegasus walked over to the lounge area and loaded a paper plate with pizza from the half-empty boxes sitting on a folding table. Five people were sitting around another folding table and playing cards: Hato Gozen, the Heretic, and a trio of American Miraculous Heroes.

“Blackjack!” shouted an American hero with a mottled yellow-and-brown suit, flipping her cards over.

“Oh, come on, you cheated!” retorted another, this one in light yellow.

“You dealt the cards!”

The Heretic glanced up as Pegasus approached. “What’s happening?” he asked, nodding toward Markov, who was hovering next to Pegasus’ head. “Trouble?”

Pegasus shook his head. “Everything is still under control,” he answered. “A few minor disturbances, but nothing the police could not handle.” He held up his plate. “I am simply looking for a late lunch.”

The Heretic nodded and picked up his new hand as Pegasus made his way over to the grotto which Sabrina had claimed for her own due to the empathic resonance Hawk Moth had built into it. The butterflies scattered as he walked through them, carefully picking his way around the flowers. He stopped in the grotto doorway to look down at Impératrice Pourpre, who was sitting cross-legged on her accustomed mat, hands on her knees with her palms facing up. Duusu was perched on the edge of the cryogenic chamber, watching him wide-eyed and grinning ecstatically.

Impératrice Pourpre opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “Are you going to just stand there and stare at me, or are you going to sit down?” she asked, gesturing to the second mat sitting in front of hers.

Pegasus scooted the mat over next to hers and sat down. He held out the plate, and she took a slice of pizza. “I hypothesized that you would not have eaten yet, either,” he explained.

She giggled. “Your hypothesis was correct as usual,” she responded. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome!” Pegasus placed the plate on the ground in front of them, claimed a slice for himself, and put his other hand on her free hand. She interlaced their fingers and gave a gentle squeeze. Markov switched to hover mode in front of them and began cycling through the camera feeds on his pop-out screen.

After they had both eaten a couple pieces in comfortable silence, Impératrice Pourpre commented, “All of the positive emotions in the city are almost intoxicating.”

“Are you certain that is not just Duusu’s influence?” he asked, nodding to the Kwami, who was now sitting on the plate and nibbling on a pizza crust.

“It’s not _my_ fault everyone is so happy today!” Duusu replied, jumping up into the air. “It’s just such an amazing day to be out of my miraculous!”

“I’m glad I can do this without putting undue stress on myself or Nooroo,” Impératrice Pourpre told him, smiling. “At least for a little while at a time. I’m sorry your miraculous has been inactive for so long. I’m sure that gets old, especially with so many of the other Kwamis out of the Box.”

Duusu shrugged and looked down into the cryogenic chamber. “I’m just happy for the chance to see the world.”

Pegasus smiled. This was nice. Even with the stress of monitoring the city’s celebration for criminal or terrorist activity, even with the risk of Lynchpin interference, even with the failure of his most recent experiment, this was shaping up to be a good day. He had first received his miraculous on an unexpected trip to outer space as Ladybug’s last resort. When they had asked him to help in the final battle against Hawk Moth, he had accepted the responsibility, albeit with reluctance. After the sheer insanity of that battle, he had seriously considered relinquishing the miraculous and returning to the life he had known, one in which everything made empirical sense. And yet… if it were not for his time as a hero, he would not have released the mod patch for his Super Akuma Battle game today – adding in another dozen Akuma characters. He would not have been in a position to rescue his mother’s damaged orbiter in the spring. He would never have had the opportunity to study and attempt to replicate alien technology and miraculous-based magic. And he probably would never have considered dating the girl sitting next to him.

As though she had been reading his thoughts, Impératrice Pourpre squeezed his hand and observed, “I’m glad you are having a nice time today.”

He chuckled and squeezed her hand back. Not many people could truthfully claim that their girlfriend had the ability to read their emotions perfectly 100% of the time! “I trust that you are enjoying it as well?”

“I am,” she assured him, smiling softly, “though I would not say ‘no’ to spending tomorrow somewhere _other_ than Headquarters!”

Pegasus finished off his slice of pizza, released her hand, and pushed himself up to his feet. Collecting the empty plate he prepared to return to his lab. Before leaving he turned to her and grinned. “After today, I concur completely!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two notes for explanation:
> 
> In case anyone missed it, Geber armbands seemed like an appropriate signal for the police to use for multiple reasons: 1. Orange armbands would stand out but still blend in as Heroes-related. 2. Geber is a recent recruit so there are going to be very few people with his merchandise. 3. The Rooster is the Miraculous of Watchfulness (in my AU).
> 
> This isn’t the first time Sabrina has activated the Peacock/Peafowl Miraculous. She used it in “The Queen Is Dead” (untransformed and transformed). The effect on her and Nooroo is minimal when she is transformed with the Butterfly and doesn’t unify it with the Peacock; the serious negative consequences only become evident after a long period of time, or if she actually transforms with the broken miraculous. Since “Queen,” she only uses the Peacock on rare occasions when they are expecting something to happen but don’t know where (unlike “Ladybug’s Gambit” when they knew roughly where Lynchpin’s people would strike). And even then she only does it for a few hours.


End file.
